Reynaldo in Ghana

That weekend in Navio, I got another taste of rural realities as I helped my friend Aaron repair the fence of his garden that cows had threatened to tear down the night before.  All herbivores such as cows, goats, sheep etc are significant threats to the farmer’s vegetable gardens and the maintenance and defence of the garden is a constant activity.  Throwing stones at the animals when they are close and keeping the fence in good condition are absolutely essential.  So, by noon I was quite tired but happy as I now knew how to repair the fence.   So, the reason why the fence needs to be repaired constantly is because it is not a wire fence as you might find around the garden in any developed country.  Rather, it is made of long relatively straight wooden sticks and the stems of the maize plant that the farmers collect after the harvest and then dry to be used as fencing material later.  Two sticks are driven into the ground next to each other after digging a hoe with a machete.  Then, the stems of the maize plant are woven through the space between the two sticks and tied to the sticks with bark rope that is also used for the roof construction.  The problem is that even these stems are palatable for the animals since they cannot find much food and so they begin to chew on the fence which can tear holes into the structure and leave the valuable pepe, tomatoes, okro, beans vulnerable to intruders.

That afternoon, I had an experience of quite a different sort.  I joined the local dance group as they were heading off to dance at a funeral.  My understanding of the ceremony is still a bit fuzzy but I believe that all the daughters’ families of the woman who had died had to bring a dance or music group to honour her death.   Having been at several funerals now ranging from quite small to medium, this was definitely an extra-large one.  This demonstrated the wealth of the family who was apparently quite influential.  At a funeral, the men usually sit outside and the women are inside the compound.  Mourners are invited by the family of the deceased, and are welcomed by each member of the family and thanked for coming.  Water is offered to the guests and then the members of the family come back to see the mourners off with a series of verbal exchanges.

In addition to the intricacies of the funeral, there was another interesting element to this which is the dance that the dancers performed.  The dance group, as I understand it, performed a series of pre-defined dance routines, with the head of the family in the seat of honour and everyone else standing around in a circle.  The dance movements are too complex to put to words and the music is also beyond description.  The adjectives that most describe this event are loud (the music was extremely loud), sweat (the dancers were performing a dance that quite obviously was extremely physically exhausting in 40 + degree weather), extraordinary (the skill of the dancers and the appreciation of the crowd in the forms of cheers and one-cedi notes and coins that people would press against the forehead of the dancer you wanted to honour and which often stuck there because of the sweat.)

The next day, after responding to several inquiries from various family members about whether I would go to church with maybe, I finally decided to go.  The length, heat and lack of comprehension due to the language barrier of the first two church experiences were quite strong deterrents but I finally decided to go and see.  We arrived a little after 9:00 to a kind of a bible study and the first question was, do you have a bible?  I had definitely not brought one and so it was a bit of an awkward moment as everyone looked in disbelief that I did not have one.  Then, I looked for the verse and tried to make some sense of the Kassem of the religious education teacher.  At around 10:00 maybe, the church service started.  The beginning was characterized by deafening music and singing and energetic dancing by many members of the congregation.  There was a group of 5 women standing at the front who were singing, two drummers and the entire congregation sang at the top of their throats in a small church that was packed full with people still standing at the back and children sitting on the ground.    Thankfully, the religious education teacher was very kind and translated the readings and the sermon of the deacon to me.  This made the service much more appropriate and I enjoyed it a lot more.  I found that the soft voice of the religious education teacher was in stark contrast with the sharp, almost yelling voice of the preacher and the Master of Ceremonies.   At around 12:00 the service was over and we all headed home.   

So much from Navio this weekend.  Till the next time.